


All the Old Dudes

by maddily_oglebee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29575623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddily_oglebee/pseuds/maddily_oglebee
Summary: It's 2016. Remus and Sirius are still alive. Gay marriage has been legalized. That is all you need to know.Just prepare for loads of fluff and your favorite marauders era characters.This fic isn't canon compliant, but it is ATYD compliant if you just forget about Out of the Blue :)
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	1. Rainy Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I had this idea a few days ago and just had to write it. I'm not the best writer and I've never written a fic before, so I apologize in advance if some parts are not up to the normal standard for fics. I'm also not planning on writing too many chapters, I'm thinking 10-15 chapters max.
> 
> In order to understand this fic, I suggest reading ATYD, as that fic is supposed to act as context for this one. I will also be making many references to ATYD, so reading it would be extremely helpful. But of course, I can't make you do anything you don't want to do.
> 
> Sidenote, I'm not from the UK, so I'm sorry if my use of British slang or terms is inaccurate. The only knowledge I have of British slang is from what I've researched and ATYD lol.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Questions and feedback is always welcome and appreciated :)
> 
> P.S. Fuck JK Rowling. I can't stand her annoying ass.

_We'd like to know a little bit about you for our files_

_We'd like to help you learn to help yourself_

_Look around you all you see are sympathetic eyes_

_Stroll around the grounds until you feel at home_

_And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson_

_Jesus loves you more than you will know_

_Whoa, whoa, whoa_

_God bless you, please, Mrs. Robinson_

_Heaven holds a place for those who pray_

_Hey, hey, hey_

_Hey, hey, hey_

**Friday, January 8th, 2016**

**7:30 A.M.**

He woke up in the dark. Well, semi-dark anyway. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, its pale rays struggling to stretch out through dark clouds, forcing the streetlamps to bring light to the quiet London roads.

The sound of rain pattering outside filled his ears like white noise until he could only hear his own heartbeat in his head. He never used to enjoy rain when he was a teenager, but he had found that he’d grown to appreciate grey skies through the years. Perfect weather for sitting in an armchair and reading a large book. Maybe even with some sort of record playing in the background. Good God, he even _sounded_ old.

The early January air was crisp and cool, blissfully creeping inside through the window next to the bed. Remus shivered, pulling the duvet further over his shoulders. He must have forgotten to shut the window the night before, which wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. Remus had always had a bit of a habit of leaving windows open and often blamed it on his high-running temperature, but he still scolded himself every time nevertheless. What was the point of even paying the heating bill if he was just going to leave the damn window open all of the time?

Remus stretched his arms out, expecting to feel another body beside him, but all he felt was more empty space. Cold. Remus rolled over on his side, finding that the pillow next to him had been fluffed and propped up against the headboard, the duvet carefully tucked underneath. A wave of panic rose in his chest, but quickly subsided after a few moments. He wasn’t quite used to waking up alone yet, as he was normally the one to wake up first, but this arrangement had just changed recently for reasons he still did not understand. But again, this was not really anything out of the ordinary.

Remus sat up, eyes foggy with sleep, and climbed out of bed, tugging the sleeves of his jumper over his hands. The jumper was beginning to fall apart at the seams (to be fair, most of Remus’s jumpers were now falling apart with age), loose threads and holes seeming to be making more frequent appearances every time he retrieved it from the wash, but Remus didn’t mind. It was a comfort to him, an old friend, almost, and he was far too attached to just throw it away.

“Morning, love,” a voice called as soon as Remus stepped out of the bedroom. He stalked over to the kitchen and pushed the door open, finding no one other than that man with the dark hair he had fallen in love with all those years ago standing over the stove, spatula in hand. Sirius Black, a morning person… Remus never thought he would live to see the day.

“Morning,” Remus yawned back, still feeling groggy. Sirius threw his head over his shoulder, flashing a smile before turning his attention back towards the stove. That Sirius Black grin _still_ gave Remus butterflies after all these years. 

“How’d you sleep?” Sirius asked, tucking a black lock of hair behind his ear. He had more than a few grey hairs now, but Remus knew better than to point that out.

“Fine,” Remus walked over and wrapped his arms around Sirius’s shoulders, kissing him on the cheek. “It’s a bit strange waking up without you next to me, though. Taking some getting used to,”

Sirius smiled, tongue between his teeth, but was still focused on the stove in front of him. “Not my fault I don’t need as much sleep anymore. Mornings aren’t as bad as I made them out to be,”

“Yeah,” Remus squeezed Sirius lovingly. “Doesn’t mean I don’t miss you,”

Sirius visibly blushed. “Jesus, Moony, who knew you’d become so sappy in your old age,”

Remus snorted. “‘In my old age,’ as if you’re not older than I am,” 

“Yeah, but I don’t _look_ any older than I did at thirty-five. You, on the other hand…” 

“Oi!”

“Well, am I wrong?”

“Of course you are, you wanker,”

Sirius chuckled, then returned a quick kiss to Remus on the lips. “Would you mind putting the kettle on? I haven’t had a chance to get to that yet,” Remus obliged and filled the kettle with water from the sink, glancing out the window as the rain began to pour harder and more unapologetically.

“Your friend called, by the way,” Sirius remarked casually as they sat down to eat breakfast a few minutes later. Fried eggs and toast. “Grant, he called just after you fell asleep last night. Was afraid the bloody ringing would wake you, I mean who the hell calls after eleven at night--”

“You don’t have to keep calling him ‘my friend,’ you know,” Remus bit into his toast, which he had lathered in strawberry jam. “You’ve known him since we were sixteen,”

“Yeah, I know, but--”

“He’s married, Sirius. And _we’ve_ been together for over twenty years, there’s no need to get jealous,” Remus teased, taking another bite of his toast.

“I’m not _jealous_ ,” Sirius retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just don’t see why he calls so much,”

“Because we’re friends, that’s why,”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t mean he has to call at eleven o’clock at night,”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it,” Remus shrugged, spreading lemon curd onto another piece of toast. Remus had moved on from what was formerly known as ‘Moony Toast’ (a piece of toast with four different toppings, one of his fondest memories from Hogwarts) a long time ago, but he still liked to take advantage of as many different toppings as he could. What could he say, he was a simple man who loved jam and marmalade.

“He’s just busy, I guess. Got a husband and kids and all that, runs a record store, I’m pretty sure he’s still a social worker--”

“Alright, alright, I get it, he’s a busy-- wait, did you just say he runs a record store?”

Remus nodded his head. “Yeah, in Brighton. It seems to be doing pretty well from what he told me,”

Sirius’s mouth was hanging open in awe. “I didn’t think people even listened to records anymore,”

“Neither did I. Grant says records are cool again, apparently, vintage. God, listening to a record is considered vintage now, imagine that…”

Sirius still had a look of disbelief plastered across his face, almost as if he thought that Remus was just playing a practical joke on him. “So kids are listening to records again? Like, I don’t know, Abba?”

Remus crinkled his nose in disgust. His hatred for Abba was just as strong as it had been in 1976. “I guess so,”

“Fleetwood Mac?”

“I don’t see why not…”

“Bowie?”

Remus grinned at the sound of Bowie’s name before quickly looking back down at his plate. “I’m sure they still have Bowie on records, yes,”

Sirius picked up his mug of tea, looking pensively over Remus’s shoulder as he took a sip. “He’s supposed to be releasing a new album today, you know,”

“Bowie? He’s still making albums?”

“Yeah, I read it in the muggle paper this morning. I normally hate that damn paper, but I was trying to do the crossword and the article was right above it, I couldn’t help myself. Anyway, he’s still kicking around, isn’t that insane?”

Remus ran a hand through the pile of curls on his head. He still had just as much hair as he did back then, except he had gone completely grey at this point. But man, David Bowie. There were a lot of memories packed within just that one name, some of them being very unpleasant, but most of them reminding him what it was like to be young and in love. And incredibly naive. And angry. And somewhat of a prick at times. But Remus couldn’t believe that Bowie was still releasing music. He had to be in his sixties _at least--_

“Do you think we could still get Bowie’s album on record? Might as well complete the collection we already have...” Sirius thought out loud, snapping Remus out of his own thoughts. Remus blinked a few times before answering.

“I can ask Grant if his store has it when I call him back later today,”

Sirius’s mouth twitched, but he quickly caught himself and tried to hide his discontent. Remus pretended not to notice.

“I’d like that,” Sirius concluded, setting his mug down on the table. “It’ll give us something else to listen to besides Suzanne Vega,”

“I like Suzanne Vega,” Remus answered back defensively.

Sirius leaned back into his chair, watching Remus butter yet another piece of toast. “Course you do, Moony,”

***

“Orright?”

“Grant!”

“Hello, sweetheart, it’s been a minute, eh?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that, I’ve been meaning to call,”

“Don’t worry about it, really. Just wanted to see how you’ve been,”

“I’ve been great,” Remus said, rubbing the back of his neck rather sheepishly. It was beginning to rain a bit harder outside, a roll of thunder making itself known every so often, as if to say “I’m still here.” He was curled up in the armchair closest to the fireplace, the very same fireplace that seemed to have people walking in and out of it every single day during the first war. Right after the Battle of Hogwarts, Sirius had demanded that they move out of Grimmauld Place and back into their flat in London. Remus couldn’t blame him; Grimmauld Place had been an awfully dreary place to live in.

“How have you been?”

“Busy, yeah. But also great. We got a new kid we’re fostering. Real nice boy, bit on the younger side… he’s still getting used to things around here. But he’ll warm up eventually, I just know it. Anyway, what’s up with you? Going back to school any time soon?” 

“Yeah, the semester starts up again on Monday. I’m not living at school though, I just go for the day and then come back to the flat once I’ve finished teaching.”

“You can do that, now?”

“It’s a recent adjustment. I, uh, didn’t want to be away from Sirius for that long, and it’s not like he could have lived in the castle with me. The old headmaster would have never allowed it, but Minerva was more than happy to grant my request,”

In reality, Professor McGonagall was ecstatic that Remus had even agreed to teach at all. The school had finally realized that almost seventy years after his death, Professor Binns was no longer fit for teaching, and Remus was quickly ushered in to teach History of Magic. He hadn’t ever been particularly fond of Binn’s class during his time at Hogwarts, but he had enjoyed the subject itself and had performed fairly well, which were apparently acceptable enough qualifications for McGonagall. So far, Remus had enjoyed teaching again, and tried his best to make the class more enjoyable than Binn’s, which admittedly wasn’t a very difficult goal to accomplish.

“Glad to hear it!” Grant exclaimed maybe a bit too enthusiastically, but Remus didn’t mind. It was nice to just hear Grant’s voice. But after a while, the line grew quiet.

“...Grant? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. It’s just that, uh, speaking of Sirius, I spoke on the phone with him last night,”

“I’m so sorry, I fell asleep--”

“No, don’t worry about it! It’s just that… he didn’t seem to appreciate that I was calling,”

Remus sighed, closing his eyes and squeezing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. He was suddenly glad that he had waited until Sirius had gone down to the shops to call Grant.

“I’m sorry about that, he just tends to get a little overprotective at times,”

“He’s been like that for as long as I’ve known him,” Grant replied bluntly, which caught Remus off guard. It sounded rather un-Grant like.

“He’s trying to warm up, at least I think,” Remus sighed again, slightly ashamed. He hated making excuses for Sirius’s behavior, especially in front of Grant, who had been nothing but patient and reasonable with Sirius. “He still sees you as a threat, for whatever reason, God knows why. I’ve explained it to him multiple times, but he doesn’t listen to me,”

“Ah, I see. Guess I can’t hold it against him, can I? Only doing it out of love, I suppose,” And there it was. That Grant optimism that always made Remus’s heart feel so full. He had forgotten how much he had missed it.

“And to be fair,” Grant continued. Remus could picture the smile forming upon his lips. “Maybe I just shouldn’t expect to reach you when I’m calling so late. I mean, Sirius was just lovely to chat with anyway. ‘Who the hell is this? Grant Chapman? You wanna speak to Remus? Leave him alone, he’s sleeping, you arse,” Grant said in what had to be the worst impression of Sirius Remus had ever heard. Remus wheezed with laughter, clutching his side, and then proceeded to chat with Grant for what felt like hours. He could have talked to Grant all day if he had to, about meaningless things, like the shows they watched on the telly or what they read in the paper, but Remus couldn’t care less. He missed having meaningless conversations with Grant, even if he hadn’t realized it before.

“Oh, by the way, let me ask before I forget,” Remus grabbed the sheet of paper from the coffee table Sirius had scribbled on before he left. “Do you have David Bowie’s new album in the shop?” Remus squinted at Sirius’s spidery handwriting, trying to decipher what it said. He was having a bit of a rough time; he had recently lost his reading glasses and couldn’t see for the life of him. “Uh,” he continued after a few seconds. “Black Star?”

“Black Star? Was it just released today?”

“Yep,”

“Hm, if it’s brand new then we won’t have it in yet, but we should have it within the next few days, I’ll have to ask Marcus. You know you can probably just listen to it on one of those music streaming platforms, right? Even if you just pulled it up on Youtube--”

“You know I don’t have a cell phone, Grant, my fingers are too big for the damn things…”

Actually, Remus had scoffed at the _idea_ of even owning a cell phone, those stupid metal rectangles with the fancy colored lights. What was wrong with the landline? It did all you needed to do with a phone; make phone calls. Fuck, he was beginning to sound more and more like Sirius every single day.

“You could even pull it up on the computer, if you really wanted. You _do_ have a computer, right?”

Remus and Sirius did, in fact, own a computer. Back when he was still grading exam papers on the side, the school he was working for had required that he had one. It was supposed to make it easier to share documents, or whatever. All Remus knew was that it was expensive, large, and incredibly confusing. Sirius had made fun of him the entire time he had tried to set it up.

“I think I’ll just wait for the record,”

“Orright, then, that’s fine with me. Um, you’ll have to come to Brighton if you want to pick it up,” Remus could hear Grant shift uncomfortably over the line. “I mean, I’m sure you could get it from a closer record store, if they still have those around London,”

Remus thought about it for a moment, but knew that his mind had already been made up.

“No, I think it’s about time we see each other again, don’t you? You can introduce me to Marcus, show me around your shop, whatever you’d like. I just want to see you, it’s been too long,”

“Years,” Grant agreed.

“And I’m sure Sirius wouldn’t mind going, he was absolutely enthralled with the idea of records stores still being around. If that’s alright with you, of course?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Maybe we can convince him that I won’t suddenly decide to snatch you away, eh?”

Remus snickered. “I would hope so,”

“Wouldn’t that be something, as if you aren’t already madly obsessed with him,”

“Yeah,” Remus smiled dopily.

More butterflies. That feeling would never get old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song at the beginning is Mrs. Robinson by Simon and Garfunkel. Just like our lord and savior MsKingBean89, I am going to be incorporating my favorite music throughout the fic... just songs that I think fit the overall vibe. Anyways, thanks for reading lol. I have a lot of big plans for this fic so stay tuned :D


	2. Black Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more plot building, so I apologize for the mundanity. I promise things will start happening in chapter three, I already have most of it written, so stay tuned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be honest here, I am not a fan of this chapter. It was pretty difficult to write, so I apologize in advance.
> 
> This chapter isn't as fluffy, but the rest of this fic should be, I promise :)
> 
> CW for mention of death, but nothing graphic

_He trod on sacred ground, he cried loud into the crowd_

_(I'm a blackstar, I'm a blackstar, I'm not a gangster)_

_I can't answer why (I'm a blackstar)_

_Just go with me (I'm not a filmstar)_

_I'ma take you home (I'm a blackstar)_

_Take your passport and shoes (I'm not a popstar)_

_And your sedatives, boo (I'm a blackstar)_

_You're a flash in the pan (I'm not a marvel star)_

_I'm the great I Am (I'm a blackstar)_

**Sunday, January 10th, 2016**

“He’s DEAD?!” Remus shot up from the couch, heart beating out of his chest. His eyes were glued to the television screen, unable to believe what the newsreader had just articulated. Sirius came bounding in from the other room, hairbrush still in his hand.

“Who?” Sirius demanded, looking slightly disheveled. He hadn’t even finished buttoning up his shirt and his white t-shirt was poking out from underneath.

“David Bowie!” Remus exclaimed, nervously pacing around the room.

“WHAT?!” Sirius was frozen on the spot, eyes darting back and forth between Remus and the telly. His eyes had widened with pure shock. “WHEN?”

“A few hours ago,” Remus sighed. “They just announced it on the news,”

“But-- but we were just talking about him a few days ago,” Sirius stammered, setting the hairbrush down on the coffee table and placing his hands behind his head. “He just released a new album!”

They were both quiet for a moment, the voices on the television now acting as background noise for the influx of different emotions whirring through Remus’s brain. David Bowie was dead. What a strange thought.

“Did they say how he died?” Sirius questioned warily, sounding as if he almost didn’t want to know the answer.

“Liver cancer,” Remus said, his tone suddenly becoming bitter. “The idiot had liver cancer and didn’t fucking tell anyone,” He then turned back to the television (which had moved on to the weather segment at this point, but neither of them seemed to notice… or care) and threw his arms up. “What the hell?!” he shouted pathetically.

“I guess he wasn’t a wizard after all,” Sirius muttered disappointedly, more to himself than Remus. He watched as Sirius sank to the couch, folding his hands in his lap. He looked utterly defeated, his face completely blank. Remus felt like he had just been punched in the gut.

Remus truly couldn’t believe that David Bowie was gone. Back when they were teenagers, Remus and Sirius had worshipped Bowie like a god, anxiously awaiting the release of his new albums like their lives depended on it. Remus remembered that Sirius had asked Andromeda for Bowie vinyls almost every year, he remembered the way that Sirius’s eyes used to light up as soon as he received the package from the owlery… he remembered how they would lay on the floor of their dormitory with the record player in between them, taking in each and every lyric with such astonishment; there was no way David Bowie could have been a living, breathing human just like them. But apparently they had been wrong, because David Bowie wasn’t a god. He wasn’t the second coming of Christ who had descended down from Heaven to save their shameful, mortal souls. He was simply a man with glittery clothing and outrageously styled hair, a man who had won a game of luck against the music industry. A man who was now dead. Simple as that.

Remus sat down next to Sirius, draping an arm around his shoulders. Sirius gazed up at him, and suddenly Remus could see how much Sirius had really aged. It surprised him at first, but in the grand scheme of things, it made sense. No, of course they were no longer those reckless boys who found difficulty in recognizing the difference between love and platonicity. They were grown men who had lived a full life filled with plenty of sorrow, who were really just dying slowly if you thought about it for too long. Remus quickly shook that thought from his mind. Now was not the time to think about his own mortality, but to be fair, he would rather not think about anything like that at all. Not after two wars where he had been so close to death that he could taste it. Never again.

“Do you remember when we were fourteen and listened to Diamond Dogs for the first time?” Sirius shut his eyes, nestling his head into Remus’s shoulder. Remus nodded his head. 

“Yeah,” He murmured. “In our dormitory. Around Christmas, I think,”

“I had _begged_ Andromeda for that record, I was shaking with excitement. Plus, it meant I got to spend more time with you, which was always nice,” Sirius chuckled, opening his eyes and staring in the direction of the television, not really watching. “Prongs never understood what all the fuss was about. It felt special, sharing something with just you. Obviously, I now know _why_ ,” 

Remus chuckled and rested his cheek against Sirius’s head. He wasn’t used to feeling this nostalgic, but reminiscing in the past wasn’t painful like it had been in his early twenties. It was more like watching an old film he hadn’t seen in a while; he had forgotten a few scenes, but he could still recall the plot like it was just yesterday. 

“What do you say we give that record a listen? For old times sake, of course,” 

Sirius lifted his head, grinning sadly. “I’d like that,”

Remus got up and sauntered over to their bookshelf on the other side of the room, which was sagging underneath all of the weight of unread books and dust. He flicked through the vinyls until he found Diamond Dogs, which was obviously not the same copy from when they were fourteen. That record, in particular, had warped long ago until it was absolutely unplayable. Sirius actually found this copy of Diamond Dogs in a charity shop a few months ago and refused to leave the store without it. “Our collection, Moony!” he had said. “We can’t have an incomplete collection!”

Remus then placed the record on the record player gingerly, and the voice of David Bowie began to ring eerily throughout their flat, enveloping Remus and Sirius in the fog of lost memories from the past.

_And in the death_

_As the last few corpses lay rotting on the slimy_

_Thoroughfare_

_The shutters lifted in inches in Temperance Building_

_High on Poacher's Hill_

_And red, mutant eyes gaze down on Hunger City_

_No more big wheels_

_Fleas the size of rats sucked on rats the size of cats_

_And ten thousand peoploids split into small tribes_

_Coverting the highest of the sterile skyscrapers_

_Like packs of dogs assaulting the glass fronts of Love-Me Avenue_

_Ripping and rewrapping mink and shiny silver fox, now legwarmers_

_Family badge of sapphire and cracked emerald_

_Any day now_

_The Year of the Diamond Dogs_

_This ain't Rock'n'Roll_

_This is Genocide_

***

Remus apparated directly into Hogsmeade the next morning, landing just a tad bit too hard on the cobblestone road, his legs giving out from underneath him. As he prepared to fall face-first into the ground, someone reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back up until he regained his balance. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled as he brushed off his jacket, feeling embarrassed. 

“Don’t mention it!” 

Remus turned his head, realizing that the person who had caught him was--

“Harry!” Remus cried, reaching out to shake Harry Potter’s hand. “How have you been? How are the kids?” 

“Hanging in there!” Harry chortled, firmly accepting Remus’s handshake. “The kids are great, Ginny’s great. All had a wonderful holiday, as far as I can tell. But I think James and Albus are just dying to get back to school, away from all the chaos. But who can blame ‘em?” 

Remus smiled politely, but couldn’t help but cringe internally. Albus Severus Potter. What a stupid fucking name. 

“So, how you liking the new job?” Remus asked conversationally as he and Harry began their trekk up to the castle. He was still not a master at smalltalk and would have rather walked to the castle in silence, but thought that would be weird, especially because Harry was like family.

“Oh, it’s been wonderful,” Harry raved, running his fingers through his messy black hair. He looked so much like James. _Oh God, James…_ “It feels like I’m in the Room of Requirement preparing Dumbledore’s army for, well, who knows what again. Except I’m much older than these students, I guess… and some of them just so happen to be my biological children…”

Similarly to Remus’s situation, McGonagall had been searching for a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for ages, one who would be able to teach for longer than just a year at a time. She instantly sought out Harry (Remus had remembered that he was always quite gifted when it came to Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he did destroy Voldemort, after all), who had officially quit his job as an auror (“What was I even thinking, Remus? Me? A wizard cop? I _broke_ almost all of the Ministry’s rules while I was at Hogwarts!”) so he could teach. Remus agreed that teaching was a much better suited job for Harry, who had always been someone who thrived when it came to helping others succeed.

“...But anyway, I love it. And I have been really appreciating the ability to go home after work every day. I don’t know what I would do if I had to be away from Ginny and Lily for months at a time, that would be absolutely dreadful,” Remus nodded his head in agreement, beginning to feel a bit warm under his layers and layers of robes. He hated wizards robes, what was the issue with normal muggle clothing? Trousers and a jumper seemed much more practical for teaching classes in, after all. 

“How’s Sirius, by the way?” Harry asked, looking as if walking at an uphill angle wasn’t affecting him in the slightest.

“He’s alright,” Remus huffed. “I don’t know if you heard, but David Bowie died yesterday. He was rather gutted when he heard the news,” ‘Gutted’ was a bit of an understatement. After listening to the entirety of Diamond Dogs, Sirius had wanted to listen to every single Bowie album they owned, which was all of them except for Black Star. He had sung along mournfully to every single song too, until Remus had to practically drag him to bed.

“Yeah, I heard about that, actually,” Harry clicked his tongue absentmindedly. “Didn’t realize you two were fans of his,”

“Really?”

“Nope. I mean, I guess I’ve seen the records laying around your flat, but I always thought they were just for decoration or something,”

“Decoration!” Remus tutted. “Harry Potter, it turns out there’s so much more left to teach you than I thought…”

***

The rest of the school day was pretty uneventful, mostly filled with lots of “welcome back” speeches and students giddily meeting up with their friends in the Great Hall, exchanging pleasantries of their time off from school. Remus taught what had to be seven different classes that day, where he was standing at the board for hours at a time, and although he enjoyed it, his back felt incredibly stiff by the end of it all. 

He had been trying to make his classes as engaging as he could, something he would have liked to pay attention to back when he was in school. He told the class stories from each time period that he had found interesting, he encouraged students to ask questions and share their thoughts and opinions, he even attempted to incorporate pop culture references into his lectures (although Remus’s definition of pop culture was nowhere near the same as his students… The Cure was still somewhat relevant, right? They were a thing in the nineties, and the nineties were only a few years-- ah, wait, shit). But Remus’s students seemed to be fond of his class, and that’s all that really mattered, right?

***

“Hey, Moony,” Sirius chirped as Remus staggered into the flat, shutting the door behind him. Sirius was sitting on the couch, completing another crossword with a different Bowie record playing in the background, Aladdin Sane. If there was one thing Sirius loved more than Remus, it was his crosswords. And he had the audacity to call _Remus_ a stereotypical old man. “How was class?”

“Fine. Great, actually,” Remus threw his keys onto the coffee table and flopped into the armchair, rubbing his sore hip. Remus’s hip hadn’t bothered him in quite a long time, certainly not like it had when he was seventeen. But after walking up and down the streets of Hogsmeade and standing in the same spot all day, Remus’s hip felt like it had been locked into place. Sirius noticed, obviously. Remus could never hide any sort of pain from him.

“Your damn hip? Again? God, Moony, I thought you said it didn’t bug you anymore,”

“It doesn’t,” Remus reassured him, resting his hands on the arms of the armchair. “I’ve just been standing all day, it’s a little sore,”

Sirius cocked his head to the side, chewing his lip anxiously.

“I’m _fine_ , Sirius, leave it alone,” Remus said more firmly this time.

“Alright, alright, don’t bite my head off,”

“I wasn’t going to,”

“...Okay,”

“Okay.”

Sirius shook his head and reached his arm out to hold Remus’s hand, intertwining their fingers together. He didn’t say much else, but continued to work on his crossword, scratching out letters he had placed in the wrong spot and whatnot. Sirius understood that silence spoke enough volumes in itself. And for that, Remus was grateful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a big fan of the ending, but at least it's over with haha.
> 
> Song at the beginning is Black Star by David Bowie, of course! The song in the middle is Future Legend by David Bowie as well. 
> 
> Just a heads up, I'm going to try and update this fic every few days or so. Chapter three should be out soon.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Again, questions and feedback is always welcome and appreciated :D


	3. The Record Shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I think it's been almost a month since I've last posted a chapter?? I apologize, I really don't have a great excuse other than my mental health being on the fritz recently. But here's chapter three, hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Again, this one was really hard for me to write, but questions and criticism is always welcome :D

_Think of me_

_You know that I’d be with you if I could_

_I’ll come around to see you once in a while_

_Or if I ever need a reason to smile_

_And spend the night if you think I should_

_It’s important to me_

_That you know you are free_

_Cause I never want to make you change for me_

**Saturday, February 6th, 2016**

“Morning, Moony,”

“Mhm,”

“How’d you sleep?”

Remus rolled over, clutching the duvet against his chin, eyelids tired and heavy. “Not great, if I’m being honest,”

“Yeah, I could tell,” Sirius looked up from the Daily Prophet and reached out a hand to stroke Remus’s hair. He had obviously been up for a few hours already, as he had a cup of tea sitting on his bedside table, but he seemed to have crawled back under the covers. “You tossed and turned all night, thought I was going to have to lay on top of you to get you to quit it,”

“Sorry,” he croaked back, voice raspy. He shifted slightly and laid his head on Sirius’s lap, closing his eyes as Sirius continued to stroke his hair. “Just a bit nervous about today, I guess,” 

“Nervous?” Sirius asked, setting the paper onto the nightstand and picking up his cup of tea in place of it.

“About seeing him. Grant,”

After Bowie’s death, Sirius had been growing more and more restless waiting for Grant to call Remus back about Black Star (this would be the first and last time Sirius would ever be excited about Grant calling), and low and behold, on Thursday night, Grant had called Remus right after the store got their first shipment of the records. Sirius had practically yelled over the phone saying he’d pick up the record right then and there, but Remus had given him a death-glare that had shut him up almost instantly. Remus had told Grant they’d come by the store Saturday afternoon instead, much to Sirius’s disappointment.

Truth be told, Remus was terrified to see Grant again. It had been about fifteen years, maybe longer, since they’d last seen each other in person, and Remus’s heart rate increased just _thinking_ about visiting Grant. He wasn’t entirely sure why; it’s not like he had lost touch with Grant over the years, things shouldn't be awkward between them. But Remus felt the need to make a good impression, to prove that he was… alright. He needed to prove that these fifteen years had been good to him, that he was different now. Better. Happier. He felt like he owed that to Grant.

He was being ridiculous.

“I understand,” Sirius said, pursing his lips. “I guess I’m a bit nervous too,”

Remus lifted his head to look at him, furrowing his eyebrows. “You? Why?”

“I mean, Grant and I didn’t exactly get off on the right foot all those years ago. When I had come back from prison,”

Remus shivered. He and Sirius normally avoided speaking about that period in their lives like the plague. When he was so… unwell. When Sirius was not really Sirius, just a man with-- No. He tried not to think about it. He _refused_ to think about it ever again.

“You weren’t really yourself back then, I don’t think Grant has held a grudge against you for that,”

“I’m not very patient with him when he calls, though,”

“...Got me there,”

Sirius smirked and began to tug at Remus’s curls, pulling a coil and watching absent-mindedly as it sprang back into place. Remus took a deep breath and exhaled, feeling a smile playing upon his lips.

“I don’t mean to be so rough with him, you know,” Sirius pulled another curl, twisting it around his finger this time before letting go. “It’s sort of an instinct. I want to be cordial, I really do,”

“You’re protective,” Remus closed his eyes again.

“I think so. Not sure why, though,”

“It’s not a bad thing, honestly. I just wish you’d be nicer to him, he’s done so much for me over the years and I know you know that,”

“Yeah,” Sirius sighed and then leaned over to kiss Remus’s forehead. He didn’t say much else about the topic after that.

They were quiet for a few minutes, and then Remus remembered something, “You got back into bed,” he stated rather obviously.

“I did,” Sirius replied, taking a sip from his tea.

“Why?”

“You said you missed waking up next to me, figured I’d just wait for you to wake up,”

Remus about melted right then and there. He knew it was such a sappy thing to get excited over, but he couldn't help it. Had Sirius always been this sappy and Remus had just never noticed?

“I think I’m going to go and make breakfast,” Sirius concluded, hopping out of bed and stretching his back. “Hungry?”

“Not really,” Remus said, feeling an anxious knot in his stomach beginning to form. Food was the last thing he wanted to think about at that given moment, which he knew was very unlike him.

“Just toast, then,” Sirius poked his tongue out, padding out of the bedroom.

Remus grinned and followed him out, forcing himself to ignore the knot grow tighter and tighter with each and every step.

***

At approximately 12:30 pm, Remus and Sirius apparated from their flat to Brighton, finding themselves surrounded by brick in a vacant alleyway. 

“Alright,” Sirius said, clapping his hand together. “Where to?”

“If I’m correct,” Remus looked around, taking in his surroundings, the sky above them clear and blue. “We should have ended up just behind the shop,”

Sirius nodded his head and stepped out from around the corner, out of Remus’s sight. Remus took this as an opportunity to take a breath, to will his hands to stop shaking. Sirius must’ve felt that his hands were shaking, right? If he didn’t feel the shaking, he must’ve felt the sweat that had overtaken them, sticky and—

“Remus?” Sirius poked his head out from around the corner. “You coming?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he jogged a few feet to catch up. _Don’t freak out, Lupin, deep breaths. It’s just Grant._

Remus and Sirius made their way around the corner, reaching the front of the shop, which was buzzing with young life wandering in and out. Kids with different colored hair, kids with outrageous clothes, punks, hippies, you name it, kids with rings _in their nose_ (“I would've killed for a nose ring as a teenager…” Sirius mumbled to himself, a wide smile spread across his face), pure and utter chaos. Remus couldn’t see through the window, but he knew that Grant was definitely in there, just waiting. Expecting him to be there any minute. Anticipating him at any given moment. And it was like reality had come crashing down on him all of a sudden, like rubble falling from a mountain top, obliterating him as he just stood idly by at the bottom. Remus couldn’t move.

“Moony? What are you waiting for?” Sirius looked up at him, puzzled look upon his face.

“This was a bad idea,” Remus gasped, a queasy feeling rising in his throat. Dammit. “We can come back another time, but not now, this isn’t— I don’t— He wouldn't—” 

“Hey,” Sirius put a hand on his back, which felt much too warm for the off-white cable knit jumper he was wearing. “What’s the matter with you?” 

Remus tried to exhale, but it came out as more of a shudder. “I haven’t seen him in over fifteen years, _he_ hasn’t seen _me_ in over fifteen years, what if he doesn’t… what if I don’t… I’m just not ready, okay? This was a terrible idea, I was so fucking dense to even suggest—” 

“Remus,” Sirius said, voice low now. Teenagers continued to pass by them, not even paying any sort of attention. Remus had never realized how truly ignorant teenagers were, but he was grateful for it now. “What’s the worst that could happen? Just go in, he’ll be excited to see you, I’m sure,” 

“You just want that Bowie record,”

“Well, yeah,” Sirius admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “But he’s also your friend, and you already talk to him all the time, and you’re really going to regret it if you don’t go inside right now and you just leave him waiting for you and you never come because you were too scared to even— sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?” Sirius ran a hand through his hair, looking a bit anxious himself.

“Just a bit,” Remus gave him a weak smile despite feeling like he was about to be sick in the middle of the street.

“I’ll be there the whole time, and if anything happens we can just leave, no big deal, alright?”

“Alright,” Remus parrotted back hesitantly, praying to whatever god was available that there would be no reason for them to need to leave. “No big deal,”

“Great, now stop being such a nervous prick and go ahead,” Sirius quipped, taking Remus by the shoulders and pushing him along.

“Did you just call me—”

But Sirius was already shoving him through the door with full force, completely ignoring Remus’s protests.

They were inside. No going back now.

Remus took another deep breath and walked over to the front counter as confidently as he could, despite wanting to melt into the floor and never be seen again. He had to resist the urge to shove his hands into his pockets, he thought that would make him seem childish. Although he _did_ feel like he was a child again, except maybe more twitchy and shaky than he was at eleven. His eleven year old self would have bullied fifty-five year old Remus to no end. He couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed, which he knew was stupid. Who cared if he had gone soft like Sirius kept reminding him? Grant might care… would Grant care? Shit.

“Hello,” he said anxiously to the kid standing behind the cash register, who was maybe seventeen or eighteen, his dirty-blonde hair messy and out of place. The kid stared at him with a slight sense of boredom, drumming his fingers against the counter. “Um, is Grant in? I’m here because—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll go and get him,” The kid left the counter and walked around back, leaving Remus and Sirius standing alone. Sirius took Remus’s hand and gave it a squeeze for support. Remus returned a grimace, the knot in his stomach only becoming more tangled and more uncomfortable.

But there he was. He strolled out of the backroom with the same sort of smooth gait, blonde curls stacked on top of his head. If anything, he looked older. His nose was maybe a bit more crooked, and the lines on his face had grown significantly deeper, but he was definitely still the same old Grant. Remus could feel his heart beating faster and faster in his chest. 

_Chill out, Lupin. What were those damn breathing exercises again? In, two, three… out, two three-- oh, for fucks sake._

Grant stepped up behind the counter, straightening a pile of records sitting next to the cash register, “And how may I help you—” Grant looked up and his jaw dropped. “Oh. My. God.” 

“H-hey, Grant,” Remus stuttered, cursing himself afterwards for acting so god damn jumpy.

Grant stood frozen for a minute, opening and closing his mouth a few times. His face had gone pale, filled with disbelief and what looked like… was that fear? But before Remus could dwell on it, Grant broke into a smile, same crooked tooth and all. He rushed from behind the counter and threw his arms around Remus (and knocked most of the wind out of him while doing so), embracing him tightly around the torso. Remus hugged him back, still in utter shock, tears pricking his eyes. He buried his face into his shoulder. Grant smelled the same. He smelled exactly the same. 

“I’ve missed you, love,” Grant held him close, his voice sounding just like it had on the phone, just like it had all those years ago after that fucking soul-destroying war, just like it had when they met at St. Edmund’s for the first time. He was really here, right in front of him. Years older, but still Grant.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Remus choked out, desperately trying to stop himself from crying. He hated crying in public, or crying in general, actually, but he couldn’t help the tears from spilling out of his eyes.

“Oh, Remus, you big dope,” Grant teased, despite actually beginning to become teary himself. The two of them continued to cling to each other, swaying back and forth just a bit. “It’s so good to see you. You’ve been taking care of yourself?”

“I’ve been brilliant. Really bloody brilliant,” Remus sobbed into Grant's polo shirt, which was a sunny yellow. Bright and colorful, just like him.

Grant held the back of Remus's head with his hand, pulling him closer as he cried. He hadn't expected to become so emotional, as he and Grant chatted on the phone a fair amount, but this was nice. Like everything had just fallen neatly back into place.

Grant and Remus let go of each other after a while, smiles still insanely wide, and then Grant’s gaze shifted over to Sirius, who was awkwardly standing by the counter, trying not to watch. 

“Sirius,” Grant cleared his throat, the light in his eyes continuing to gleam without skipping a beat. 

“Grant,” Sirius returned politely, refusing to make eye contact with Remus, who was watching the two of them with careful eyes. “It’s, erm, good to see you,”

Sirius held out his hand for Grant to shake. Grant gazed at him for a moment before taking his hand. “You as well, Sirius. I hope you’ve been taking care of yourself too, eh?”

“Yeah,” Sirius cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “Remus and I have been great. Together. In our flat.”

Remus cringed. Why did he have to say it like _that?_

Grant nodded his head, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Good, good,” was all he said. Awkward silence. Oh god.

“Grant? Are you—” another man, taller than Grant, came out of the back room with a few vinyls in his hands and walked over. “Who’s this, babe?”

Grant shook off that unbearable encounter with Sirius and broke into another smile, warm and genuine. “Marcus, this is Remus and his partner Sirius. They’ve come to visit for the day,”

Marcus looked a bit confused at first, but then the realization dawned on him and his eyes widened with awe. He blinked a few times before turning to Remus, scanning him up and down. “ _Remus_ ? You mean, _that_ Remus?” Grant grinned so widely that Remus was sure that his cheeks had to hurt.

“Oh, well, blimey!” Marcus exclaimed, coming over to shake Remus’s hand. “it’s so good to finally meet you, Remus, I’ve been hearing about you nonstop for years!” 

“I could say the same thing about you,” Remus sniffed, trying to pull himself together. He shook Marcus’s hand and Marcus clapped him on the back, causing him to stumble forward slightly. Sirius still stood awkwardly behind them, eyes flickering around the busy shop. Records upon records were in neat stacks on shelves, in bins all over the floor, you name a spot and a record was probably there.

Grant caught Sirius staring almost immediately.

“Impressive, innit?” Grant beamed, placing his hands on his hips with pride.

“Totally,” Sirius replied, absolutely breathless. “Surprised this place is even in business,”

“Us too, to be completely honest with ya,” Marcus strided over to the counter, leaning against the side. “But the kids seem to love it. More than love it, actually, it’s become sort of a safe haven for them,” Marcus licked his lips, practically bursting with enthusiasm. Remus could see why him and Grant were together; they matched each other’s energy almost exactly. “We could show you all around, if you’d like?”

Sirius nodded his head slowly, unable to tear his attention away from everything going on around him.

And so Marcus and Grant led Remus and Sirius around the store, section after section. There was an abundance of records from Remus’s time as a teenager (he practically swooned when he saw an old T-Rex record laying on one of the tables), but also a fair amount of newer music as well. Grant had a vast amount of knowledge when it came to what the kids were listening to these days (“He’ll hear a song on the radio and know exactly who sings it and when it was released,” Marcus laughed), but Grant seemed to have a particular fondness for an American artist called Taylor Swift, who Remus had heard of in passing, but didn’t actually know much about. 

“Her lyrics are just so honest,” Grant gushed, causing Marcus to break out into a mess of giggles. “Really relatable. Not many musicians make music like she does anymore, ya know.”

“She’s _alright_ ,” Marcus was still snickering, wiping his eyes. “Her music is a little repetitive, if you ask me,”

“Insult Taylor Swift one more time and I’ll leave you,” Grant feigned offense, throwing his hands up over his head. “Anti-Taylor Swift propaganda is something I will absolutely not tolerate,”

Marcus pulled Grant over by the arm and gave his shoulders a squeeze, kissing him on the cheek, and Grant jokingly pushed his face away. It was so strange to see Grant show this much affection in public. He seemed so comfortable about it… so nonchalant. It made something begin to bubble deep within Remus’s gut, like a pot of water boiling on a stove. And as much as he tried to fight it, he couldn’t deny that what he was feeling was envy. But for what reason? It’s not like Sirius and him hadn’t shown affection in public before, or at least he thought. Had they? It most definitely wasn’t the seventies anymore, people probably wouldn’t give it a second thought… had they even shared a kiss out in the open?

Remus glanced over at Sirius, but Sirius was far too busy staring at the floor.

***

It was around an hour later when Marcus suggested that they all go out for lunch. “It’s a special occasion! The reuniting of two ‘care home yobs,’ as you like to say, doesn’t happen every day,”

“We can’t just close up shop,” Grant laughed. “There’s still a good amount of people browsing,”

“But--”

“We’re open until six, we’ll stay open until six. How about I just go and pick up sandwiches or something?”

Marcus grinned, lacing his fingers with Grant’s. “Sounds good to me, babe.”

“Great. Sirius? Remus? Care to come with?”

“Love to,” Remus said, standing up just a bit straighter despite a slight ache beginning to move up his spine.

“I think I’ll stay behind,” Sirius said quietly, his hands behind his back. “Still need to get that Bowie record, anyway.” Remus tilted his head with confusion, but Sirius just offered him a tight smile, which was so obviously forced that it almost hurt to look at. “You two go ahead, Marcus and I will be fine,”

And so Grant and Remus left the shop and walked down the street, making conversation about whatever popped into their heads. Grant went on and on about the kids he was fostering, and they all worked at the shop, stacking boxes and cleaning the backroom and such. Jamie, the kid Remus had seen at the counter, was apparently a hand-full, but Grant talked about each and every one of the kids with such admiration and love. Remus was just so excited to speak with Grant in person again, even if he didn't understand much about the inner-workings of the foster care system. In person.

This all felt too real.

The shore, which was just to their left, was absolutely stunning The way the sun’s rays reflected on the glimmering sea, which was a dark blue, almost navy, was breathtaking, a nice change from Remus and Sirius's stuffy London flat.

“Nice, right?” Remus jumped as he heard Grant’s voice, lost in his own thoughts. “You should see it here during the summertime, this place is always packed,” 

“Mhm,” Remus acknowledged, only half listening. The knot in his stomach suddenly lurched; Remus would have doubled over if Grant wasn't standing right there.

“Grant, it has been really wonderful to see you again,”

“You as well, sweetheart, I’m glad you could come.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay,” Remus blurted out, heart threatening to beat through his chest. Grant looked at him thoughtfully, seeming to study every single aspect of Remus's demeanor, picking him apart. Or maybe that was just Remus’s own anxiety getting the better of him.

“I’ve been sober for ten years now, I quit smoking, I’m working, I started going to therapy a few months ago, I’m reading again, I’m--”

“Remus,” Grant placed a hand on Remus’s chest. He froze for a second, probably feeling Remus’s heartbeat whirring out of control, but shook his head ever so slightly. “You’ve already told me all of this over the phone. Many times, actually,”

“I just felt like I had to tell you in person,”

“Why?”

“I-- oh, fuck, I don’t know,” Remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s stupid, really,”

“If it was stupid, you wouldn’t care so much,” Grant stared deeply into Remus’s eyes. The street was almost completely empty, except for a family of three walking along the beach in hats and large jumpers.

Remus sighed again, feeling like a complete idiot. “I feel like I owe it to you, to let you know that I’m better, I mean. This way it’s more real and not just empty words… not that our conversations are just a bunch of empty words! I--” This was definitely more difficult than he thought it would be. “I was really horrible to you for the twelve years that we were together, and I couldn't say this before because I'm such a stubborn twat, but I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Grant just stood in front of him for a moment, taking in everything Remus just said.

_Oh god. Oh good god. You really had to go and fuck it up, didn’t you? Everything was perfectly fine until you had to go and open your big fat mouth, fucking--_

“Are you happy?”

Remus blinked. “What?”

“Are you happy?” Grant repeated maybe a bit more firmly. The smile that had been on his face had completely disappeared, replaced with an expression that was now rather serious.

Remus swallowed, hoping that the knot in his stomach would loosen just a little, as he currently felt like his intestines were tangled up into a tight ball, pressing up against his ribcage. “I am,”

“And you and Sirius are happy together?”

“Very much so,” Remus could feel his heart in his throat now.

“Then that’s all that matters, don’t you think?” Grant removed his hand from Remus’s chest and dropped it to his side. “Look, you couldn’t help how you felt all those years ago, and dwelling on it won’t change anything. I loved being there for you, I really did, even when you were being an absolute arse,” 

Remus chuckled, looking down at his feet. Grant, however, wasn’t quite yet finished.

“There’s no need for you to apologize because there is nothing for you to apologize for, really. You have given me more than you could ever know. If it weren’t for you, I would have probably gotten myself killed before I had time to become an adult. I wouldn’t have met Marcus, who I love with my entire being,”

Grant sighed, running a hand over his head. “From what I’ve learned, grief works in many different ways, and we can’t do much to control which way it turns, unfortunately. How you feel is how you feel. But it’s done now, just water under the bridge,” Remus looked up from the ground, seeing that a grin was now working its way up Grant’s face. 

“Really?”

“Really.”

Remus hugged him, and didn’t let go for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song at the beginning is Hello, It's Me by Todd Rundgren. This has to be one of my favorite songs of all time and 100% a Grant song if I've ever heard one.


End file.
